two black heels
by auberjonois
Summary: Smithers is happy to indulge in Burns' many eccentricities, but he gets more than he bargained for when Burns' little fashion show takes an unexpected turn. NSFW


Smithers tapped his foot rhythmically on the dark hardwood floors of Burns' vast walk-in closet. He'd been called in on what was meant to be his Saturday off to indulge in one of Burns' favorite pastimes, modeling new clothes.

Usually, he wouldn't mind that, in fact, he normally leapt at the chance to spend his off-hours with Burns in a less than professional capacity, but today wasn't ordinary. He'd planned a date in the early afternoon and he wasn't keen on missing it.

Sure he'd spent years pining for Burns, and nothing had changed, but he'd learned that on occasion he needed to pretend he wasn't completely infatuated with the man and have a little fun outside of work.

Smithers sighed and checked his watch, Burns had been changing for quite some time now if this took much longer he'd need to text his date and either postpone their dinner or cancel altogether. The idea of that was distasteful, to say the least, he'd had a particularly dry streak, most likely due to word getting around that he was a bit of a flake.

It's not like he could help it though, if Burns needed him somewhere, well, he had to be there.

Smithers glanced over to the door at the sound of sharp footsteps turning the corner, Burns stepped out from behind the wall in a very nicely tailored but traditional black tuxedo.

He scowled when he saw Smithers looking up from his watch.

"Have somewhere to be, Smithers?" He said coldly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Uh, sort of, sir, but I have time." He tried to change the subject. "That's a very nice tuxedo."

Burns didn't take the bait. "And just what do you have to do that's so important on a Saturday?"

Smithers sighed, "I've got a date, sir." There was hardly any point in lying to him, Burns, sharper than his age would imply, always caught on when Smithers tried to hide things from him. Well, not every time, but dates seemed to be something he could suss out quickly.

"I should've known," Burns announced, inevitably, "You reek of the cheap cologne you always slap on for such occasions."

Smithers shrugged, he'd heard that before.

"And just who is the lucky lass this time?" Burns strode towards him, a fine hand beneath his chin, contemptuous as always.

He always took an odd interest in Smithers' romantic life, in a way that some might read as jealousy, but Smithers knew better, Burns was simply bothered by the idea that someone else might retain his employee's time. Something fueled purely by greed.

"Uh, just someone I met through a friend," Smithers replied. As Burns drew closer he let himself admire the strict lines of the suit that did wonders for his slim figure, so far though it had proved to be a rather boring outing as far as Burns' modeling sessions went. A few new suits, one he was pretty sure he'd seen before, and all of them in tame colors.

Burns could have very eccentric taste, though he hardly wore anything outside of the norm to his upper-class parties, adhering always to the unspoken dress codes. Not that it mattered, he didn't buy clothes to show off to anyone but Smithers, it was about the simple act of owning them.

Burns hummed thoughtfully at Smithers' answer.

He stood still for a moment, studying Smithers, before he said, "You don't like it do you?"

"Hm? Oh, the tuxedo, of course I like it, sir, it fits nicely."

"Be honest," Burns demanded.

Smithers frowned. "It's nice, really, but you have so many, I can't tell them all apart."

Burns gave him a black look and Smithers braced for an outburst but instead he seemed to cool down quickly and unbuttoned the jacket.

"You're right, Smithers, it's hardly daring." Burns narrowed his eyes. "Maybe I should try something- out of the box."

He turned promptly on his heel.

"Tell your date not to worry, you'll be on your way soon enough," Burns called over his shoulder as he traipsed off into the other room.

Smithers laughed quietly and sat down on a soft upholstered bench to wait for Burns.

This interlude wasn't nearly as long as the last and Smithers did a double-take when Burns reentered the closet. The brown suit he was wearing wasn't much to write home about, though Smithers could always appreciate the way that a good suit accentuated the sharp lines of Burns' body. It had a handsome seventies flare with wide lapels, something that was common in older sections of Burns wardrobe.

However, what really intrigued Smithers was that Burns was taller, by only a few inches maybe, but definitely taller. The reason was obvious as he made his way over to Smithers, he was wearing a pair of square-toed black heels.

Smithers sat up a bit straighter on the bench taking in how Burns' legs seemed to go on forever, and the curves of his calves and thighs emphasized by the height of the heel.

"Well, Smithers, what do we think?" Burns twisted his body so that Smithers could take in his profile.

"Much more, erm, exciting, sir," he said, suddenly fascinated by the turn this hour had taken. "Those shoes are terrific."

"You think so?" Burns grinned and he lifted one foot off the floor, letting Smithers admire the chunky wooden heel and high arch of the shoe. "I've had them forever, maybe it's time I revisit some of these old things."

"Maybe so, sir," Smithers said, letting his gaze linger on the dip of Burns' lower back.

"Now that I've got your attention," Burns said in a low voice, "once more unto the breach."

He was gone in a flash and Smithers reached for his cell phone in his pocket. He tapped out a quick apology to his date and asked if they could reschedule for later that evening. Somehow he doubted he'd get leniency in this situation but he certainly could hope for it. The biggest downside to these modeling sessions was always the incredible sexual frustration he was left with.

Before he could receive a response, Burns was back again. Smithers swallowed hard.

He was again in black shoes, though these were higher with a stiletto heel. Smithers watched in awe as he balanced perfectly atop them as if he'd been wearing them all his life. He wasn't dressed in much more than the shoes besides white gloves and a dark fur coat that swallowed up most of his slight frame. If he was wearing anything beneath the coat, Smithers couldn't see it, it covered him down to his knees, though his legs were bare.

As he came closer Smithers tried to calm himself and think about anything that wasn't Burns in nothing more than a fur coat and stilettos.

"Since you seemed to like that last pair of shoes so much, what do you think of these, Smithers?" Burns stood in front of him, a smile teasing his lips.

"Very- very nice," Smithers stammered, wondering what exactly this had turned into. "The coat is-"

"It's seal," Burns interrupted, stroking the thick fur with his gloved hand, "harder and harder to get nowadays what with all those maudlin environmentalists running around."

Smithers nodded absently as he stared at Burns' delicate legs.

"So, Smithers," Burns' voice pulled him back into reality, he looked up to see Burns staring down at him, bemused, his eyebrow raised. "Do you have time for another ensemble or do you need to rush off for your little date?"

At first, Smithers merely nodded up at Burns, words stuck in his throat. After a moment though, he coughed politely and said, "I could stay for a bit longer."

Burns barked out a laugh and smiled wickedly at him. "I hope you don't keep her waiting," he said as he disappeared again from the room.

Smithers drew in a controlled breath, he was light-headed and it was becoming necessary for him to cross his legs if he didn't want to embarrass himself or Burns in this situation.

He adjusted himself as best he could and tried to clear his head before Burns returned. He could only hope that the next outfit was milder so that he could leave without a scandal. He wasn't sure what kind of game Burns was playing at though, he'd put up with so many of his peculiarities over the years, but this was new.

He'd never been so openly flirtatious with Smithers before, women, sure, but men? And Smithers specifically? Hardly!

Smithers made a mental note to check the side effects of his medications.

But when Burns stepped into the room all coherent thoughts vanished from Smithers' mind.

His tall black heels were once again clicking rhythmically across the floor, but now a red silk dress clung to his skin, draping itself luxuriously over his body, the thin straps that looped gracefully over his shoulders were nothing but strands of the fine fabric.

Smithers nearly hit the floor face first.

He gripped the bench for balance and pulled his leg, crossed over his lap, tighter to his body, so much so his muscles began to ache.

Burns twirled in front of him, the hem of his dress flaring up and out as it spun with his body. Smithers caught the briefest of glances at his upper thighs.

"Daring enough for you, Waylon?" He purred.

Smithers could feel his knuckles turning white as he clutched the bench tighter. The nails of his left hand were digging into his palm.

"Monty, I-" he stuttered, he stared at the low neckline of the dress, the delicate creases that stretched over Burns' flat chest, his sharp exposed collarbone.

"Do you like it?"

Smithers nodded, he was leaning forward now, completely in awe of the spectacle that Burns was putting on.

Burns bent down towards him and hooked his bow tie with one thin finger. Smithers swallowed.

Their noses were nearly brushing, Smithers could feel the heat of his breath against his lips, his mouth fell open instinctively, anticipating a kiss.

"I've got one more thing to show you," Burns murmured. He let go of Smithers and straightened up, before stalking off, his red dress swishing behind him.

Smithers could barely feel the vibration of his phone in his pocket, indicating a new text.

Whatever was happening here couldn't be real. Monty Burns absolutely could not be coming onto him. The man wasn't- for as long as Smithers had known him, he had been sure he wasn't gay. If he was, he'd certainly had Smithers completely fooled.

But this was a dream come true, his biggest fear now was waking up before Burns returned for the last time.

Finally, Burns appeared in the doorway. Smithers abandoned his attempt to hide his erection, his leg falling to the side once more. He sat on the edge of the bench, painfully hard and transfixed as Burns strode toward him.

His closed-toe black heels gave way to dark sheer stockings, held up by thin garters. The only other thing on his body was a pair of black lace panties.

Smithers was almost shaking with need by the time Burns got within reach. But he couldn't touch him, he was afraid of breaking the spell. A little voice in the back of his head told him there was a very real possibility that this was all a strange game and that Burns didn't really want Smithers to make a move on him.

After all, he was straight, wasn't he?

Smithers felt a soft hand caress his cheek, he looked up at Burns, he had a sly grin on his face and a fierce look in his eyes that Smithers had never seen before.

He put a leg up on the bench beside Smithers, effectively straddling him.

"Have you ever felt a silk stocking before?" Burns murmured.

Smithers shook his head. "No," he just barely managed to choke out.

Burns reached down and took Smithers' hand from his lap, pulling it towards his leg.

"Feel this then."

He guided Smithers' hand gingerly from his ankle up his calf, to his knee, where the translucent fabric ended.

"Nice, isn't it?"

Smithers gave him another shaky nod.

Burns looked pleased with himself and again he leaned in close to Smithers' face. "Would you like to go higher?" He asked in a voice so quiet Smithers could barely hear it over his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"God, Monty, yes," he groaned.

"Then do it," Burns growled. He stood quickly, placing his foot back on the floor and releasing Smithers from where he was sitting.

Smithers leapt up from the bench and lifted Burns into his arms just in one practiced motion just as he'd done dozens of times before. He thanked his lucky stars that the bedroom was just outside the closet doors and he took Burns over to the bed.

The whole way, Burns had his face buried in the crook of his neck, nipping at the skin there and muttering something that Smithers couldn't make out in a low soothing voice.

Smithers set him down on the bed and stared at Burns, splayed out for him. His face was flushed and it was obvious that he wanted Smithers.

The sight was like a bucket of cold water, he froze.

Burns watched him suspiciously for a moment before sitting up.

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

"Monty, I-" he started, "I never thought that you would- I never thought this would happen."

Burns' brow creased, "Do you want me or not?" He asked in a vicious tone.

"Of course I do," Smithers replied, his voice hoarse, "But why all of a sudden?"

Burns rolled his eyes before he reached out and pulled him down by his shirt collar. He tossed a leg over Smithers' back and smiled.

"You can ask questions later," he said impishly, "Now I expect you to fuck me until I can't stand."

Smithers moaned when Burns kissed him fiercely on the mouth, nipping at his lips before Smithers let his tongue slip inside past his teeth. They kissed for a while as Smithers ran his hands up and down Burns' ribs, finally coming to rest on his sharp hips and pulling their groins together.

He gasped as Burns arched up from the bed and he felt his body press against his erection.

Burns shoved Smithers' jacket down off his shoulders before Smithers shucked it completely, tossing it aside. Burns made it clear he didn't want to waste any more time as he pulled apart Smithers' bow tie and the top few buttons of his shirt before reaching for the fly of his trousers.

He fell forward when Burns took hold of his dick, tugging it free from his boxers and stroking it slowly. Smithers was breathing heavily against his shoulder, unsure if he could last long enough to give Monty what he wanted.

"Waylon," Burns moaned from beneath him, his teeth dragged over the sensitive skin of Smithers' throat before he continued, "reach into the top drawer."

Smithers was hardly clearheaded, but he managed to prop himself up on one hand and pull open the drawer of the bedside table with the other. Sure enough, there were condoms and a bottle of lube. He tossed these onto the bed where he could reach them and focused again on Burns.

He trailed a hand down Burns' chest and stomach to where the lace panties clung to his hips. Smithers drew in a breath and pulled them down exposing Burns' erection. He stepped back and slid the underwear off completely, the stockings held on barely, but both of the heels fell to the floor with loud thumps.

He took the lube from its place on the bed and slicked his first two fingers with it before he knelt down on the floor. He could feel Burns' hungry gaze on him.

For a moment he sat mesmerized by the sight before him. Burns' cock, hard and dripping with pre-cum, he took it in his hand and drew his tongue up from its base to its tip, before suckling on it there briefly.

Burns yelped and jolted up, his hand flying to Smithers' shoulder. Smithers pulled away in surprise and looked up at him.

Burns' eyes were squeezed tightly shut, it was clear that he was more sensitive that Smithers had anticipated.

The grip on his shoulder relaxed and Burns breathed out.

"Don't tease me, Waylon," he rasped.

Smithers laughed a little to himself, he added a bit more lube to his forefinger and drew it lightly over Burns' asshole. Burns groaned and his nails dug into the skin of Smithers' shoulder.

Smithers slowly slipped his finger inside, burying his face into Burns' left thigh as he did, breathing in the warm smell of his skin.

He curled his finger up and listened to Burns moan low and quietly. He did this just a few more times, feeling Burns adjust around his finger.

"I'm not a young man," Burns hissed suddenly, "Get on with it."

"Okay, Monty," Smithers replied as he lined up his middle finger and pressed it inside, Burns groaning as he did.

He stroked Burns' side gently with his free hand and kissed his thigh as he stretched him with his two fingers. Burns drew his hand up to his mouth and bit the skin of his palm near his wrist as Smithers worked.

For a while Smithers was lost in the haze of this moment, still not fully understanding the events that had led up to it, but savoring it all nonetheless.

"Waylon," Burns called out, his voice thin, "please."

He drew his fingers from Burns who gasped at the sudden loss of contact. Smithers tore open the condom wrapper, thankful that he'd managed it on the first try, despite the way his hands were shaking now, and rolled it over his dick before adding more lube. He grabbed Burns by the hips and pulled him roughly towards the edge of the bed.

Burns arched up in anticipation and threw his legs over Smithers' back, his sharp crooked smile had returned.

"Fuck me, Waylon," he growled, a hunger in his voice.

Smithers could hardly stand it any longer, he reached down and aligned himself with Burns' asshole before slowly, to an almost painful degree, pushing inside him.

Burns let out a low whine, and again his nails dug into Smithers' shoulder. His bony heels pressed against Smithers' back, encouraging him to continue moving.

Smithers lurched forward and kissed Burns hard on the lips, he half-shouted when he had buried himself completely in Burns and it took a minute for him to adjust to the dizzying tightness.

Burns hardly gave him the time, he squirmed beneath Smithers, rolling his hips up to take as much of his cock into him as possible.

He bit down hard on Smithers' bottom lip.

"I told you to fuck me," he snapped and Smithers finally gathered himself enough to thrust into him, panting as he did.

The heat that was enveloping his cock, the tightness, it was all overwhelming as he continued to fuck into Monty. He couldn't contain himself any longer and he wrapped his arms around Burns' waist, holding him up as he thrust. He didn't know if Burns could hear him and he didn't care for once as he muttered that he loved him over and over against the side of his neck.

He felt Burns' entire body tense and he arched up higher off the bed before he moaned loudly. Smithers could feel his warm cum pooling between them as his cock twitched.

"Oh fuck," he hissed, thrusting hard as he reached his own peak. He came with a choked cry and rode out his orgasm with shallow jerks of his hips.

They both lay there for a moment, too fatigued to even care about the mess of sweat and cum. Finally, Smithers came to his senses and lifted himself off of Burns.

He slipped the condom off his softening cock and carried it to the bathroom where he tossed it in a wastebasket before grabbing a towel from the rack. Smithers took a second to clean himself up and tuck himself back into his pants, closing his trousers again. He returned to the bedroom to find Burns tugging off the stockings and garters.

He crawled across the bed to him shyly like a penitent and traded the towel for the silk stockings and garters. He placed them neatly on the bedside table as Burns cleaned himself up. When he was done he stared at Smithers, a cold look in his eyes.

"Why are you dressed?" He asked sternly, raising an eyebrow. "Are you still planning on meeting that little floozy?"

Smithers frowned, floozy? Oh, right, his date, well that was a bust, though he could hardly say he cared.

"No, the date's canceled, so if you need anything before I go home tonight-"

"Go home tonight?" Burns interrupted, "You're staying here with me."

Smithers stared at him, eyes wide, stunned.

"Oh, wipe that bewildered look off your face! Good god, sometimes I think it'll get stuck like that one day."

Burns turned away from him and pulled the sheets back so that he could slide beneath them.

"Go on," he said, flicking a wrist at Smithers, "unless you plan on sleeping in those awful loafers, in which event you may not stay in my bed."

Smithers, still at a loss for words, hurriedly moved to sit at the end of the bed, kicking off his loafers and letting them fall to the floor before he stripped down to his undershirt and boxers. He turned again to see Burns on his side, curled up under the duvet.

Smithers crawled under the covers and inched as closely as he dared to Burns, not wanting to be presumptuous about this next stage.

Burns' bony hips struck him hard in the gut and Smithers let out a soft puff of air when they did.

"Don't be so modest, Waylon," Burns harrumphed, "it's hardly becoming of you."

Smithers got the message and curled himself around Burns' body, tossing an arm over his side and pulling him close. He pressed his nose into Burns' fine gray hair, breathing in the smell of his sweat and soaps.

"I don't get it, Monty," he sighed, his voice muffled.

"Get what?" Was the sharp retort.

"Why you did all this, I thought that you- well, that-"

"That I only loved women?" Burns scoffed, "You can be so old-fashioned."

Smithers rolled his eyes a bit and laughed as he held Burns tighter.

"But why now?"

He felt Burns shrug. "You are always dashing off to go on some date and I doubt she could make Valentine's Day as special as I could. Terrible to think of you in some stuffy relationship like that."

Smithers hadn't even considered for a moment that his date had been scheduled on a holiday.

"Besides, I'm hardly getting any younger-"

"You're as spry as ever," Smithers interjected and Burns kicked him lightly.

"Save your cajolery," he chided. "I wanted to see if my powers of seduction had lost their edge, clearly not if I can bed a tight-ass like you." He cackled at his own joke.

Smithers didn't have the heart to say a word. That all could come later, for now, he wanted to relax and enjoy the moment with Burns' warm skin pressed against his own.

He let out a contented sigh as he began to drift off.

"I love you, Monty," he murmured, his brain too sleep-addled to think better of it.

Burns tensed a moment, before settling back into Smithers' arms, pressing against him closer than ever.

"I love you too," he replied almost so quietly that Smithers didn't catch it. He cleared his throat. "Now go to sleep, I expect breakfast in the morning, it's the least you can do."

Smithers grinned to himself and let Burns' soft breathing lull him to sleep.


End file.
